Tea

Mmmm, tea. Is it the flavour? Is it the colour? Is it the temperature? getting warmer...


Getting someone a cup of tea is the ultimate, everyday nice thing you can do for someone.  It shows you care, and that you want to make the person in question a little bit happier.


Tea is comforting, like a liquid hug.  In fact, ideally you should present someone with tea and then give them a hug as well.  This is ultimate love.


It's also an exciting drink, fraught with danger.  Spill it on your crotch, you're a goner.  Sip too soon, burnt lips/tongue/throat.  These are very real risks.  But then if you're over cautious, you miss the two minute window when the tea is at its optimum drinking temperature.  Then you've ruined it.  You can always use the microwave to reheat the mug, but it's never quite the same.  Also, dunking: now there's a double edged sword.  It's great at the time, but then when you get the horrid biscuit detritus in the last mouthful, the feeling of regret is intense, palpable even.  


Making each individual's cup of tea is an art.  If I ever make you a cup of tea, I need information first.  I like mine strong, no sugar.  The amount of milk is dependent on mood.  My friend Ben likes his weak, one sugar, followed with a cruel remark about how he doesn't actually like the taste of tea.  


I'm no expert on the stuff.  I don't drink anything other than regular brown tea bags (this isn't to say I'm not open to other kinds).  I've been known to drink Earl Grey when offered, and loose leaf when visiting my uncle.  It's the social effects of tea I'm interested in.


Show your love with tea.  It's cheaper than a real present.

Anthony Yeboah

I 'support' a football team.  I don't actually support them, not in any financial way at least, because I haven't paid to watch one of their matches for a couple of years.  It would be more accurate to say that I follow the fortunes of this team, and that my happiness to some extent depends on whether they can, on any given day, put a ball into a net more times than the opposing group of men over ninety-odd minutes.


This team is Leeds United.  And yes, I am aware that they are shit.  Somehow however, following a team in this way instils some sort of inexplicable fierce pride in me.  Somehow, when the eleven (or less depending on how they've behaved) men playing for Leeds score more goals than say, the eleven men representing Reading, I get an instant feeling of power. It's like I am somehow superior than the people of Reading, despite not contributing to the contest in any way whatsoever, and having no strong feelings towards the town of Reading.  I can't explain this, except to say that this stupidity has been passed on to me by my father.  So there you go, as a young boy my fragile little mind was tragically warped.  That's my excuse.


Anthony 'Tony' Yeboah played for Leeds from 1995 to 1997, a tragically short amount of time.  Like all the greats, he played amazingly for about a year, got fat, and moved on.  He wasn't an especially great player.  But he had the ability to score goals of such violent beauty, just thinking of him moves me to tears.  To this day, you cannot convince me that anyone can kick a ball harder than Tony Yeboah.  On a couple of occasions he crushed the ball into the net as if both the ball and the underside of the crossbar had caused him some horrific offence.  He didn't just kick the ball, he destroyed it.  On Monday the 21st of August 1995, Yeboah scored my favourite goal ever.  


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tDx-KUGVGMk


I have often wondered the difference between myself and people who aren't interested in sport.  I'm not sure, but I can say that the main reason I love sport is because it can be so outrageously spectacular.  That volley is one of the most beautiful things I think I've ever seen.  If that's corny, then corn me up.  On Saturday the 23rd of September in the same year, he did it again.  Absolutely bloody outrageous.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mHCmU4QmgEM


So that's Tony Yeboah.  As far as I'm concerned, he's a superhero.  And a small part of why I love sports.

P.S. When I googled images of Yeboah, among them were pictures of Asamoah Gyan and Jay Jay Okocha.  I find this highly racial.
P.P.S. For those reading this who don't know me, when I say 'racial', I mean racist. 
P.P.P.S.  When I say 'poop', I mean fart.  

The Trip (TV)

Sadly one of my favourite television programmes of 2010 is not longer on BBC iplayer, but if you haven't already you should figure out a way of seeing it.  The Trip is a six part series following Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon on a restaurant tour of the North, as Coogan attempts to review various establishments for the Observer Magazine.  Whilst undertaking the journey the two pass the time mostly through competitive mimicry and piss taking.  The two actors each play a distorted version of themselves, as previously seen in the 2005 film A Cock and Bull Story.  Of course, The Trip is very funny.  It has to be, it's got Steve Coogan in it. The poor lad lives under the shadow of Alan Partridge, but since those hilarious times he has continued to make good television, and The Trip is no exception.


But it's so much more than funny.  It moves between comedy and drama seamlessly whilst also having a documentary feel about it, thanks to Director Michael Winterbottom's inspired camera work.  The drama element comes chiefly from Coogan's failing relationship with his girlfriend, but also from a comparison which is created between the two characters.  Coogan is a frustrated, unhappy person, who as a result is at times quite unpleasant.  Brydon, by comparison, is content with his lot in life.  The interactions between the two are as far as I can gather unscripted, and the result is something that feels very real whilst still being amusing.


The countryside of the Lake District and the Yorkshire Dales is shot beautifully, and it was particularly pleasing on the eye when Long Views of bleak, beautiful hills featured nothing but Coogan's massive Range Rover, dwarfed by its surroundings.  Winterbottom employed various camera angles including one from the bonnet of the car, and generally the camera work in the series makes it more visually interesting than it has any right to be.


There's no getting away from it though, there are a lot of impressions.  They take up most of the screen time.  Happily, most of them are really funny.  I particularly enjoy Brydon's Al Pacino, and when Brydon takes it too far and you think, 'OK that's enough now', these thoughts are usually echoed by Coogan on screen.


The Trip is the product of two people (Coogan and Winterbottom) not being afraid to do something a bit risky.  I've read up a bit on how the show was received, and some people just don't get it.  Generally though I think the critics liked it, and so did the majority of those viewers who wrote their thoughts down in online forums.  I personally love the way that The Trip plays with genre boundaries.  When all a comedy programme attempts to do is make you laugh, and fails at it, you're disappointed.  The real gems are the ones that do a little something else as well, so then if you don't laugh, you have something else to appreciate.